The Rogue Nation of Bread Experts is a huge, orderly nation, remarkable for its pith helmet sales, avowedly heterosexual populace, and flagrant waste-dumping. The hard-nosed, hard-working, cynical population of 542 million Bread Expertsians are ruled by a mostly-benevolent dictator, who grants the populace the freedom to live their own lives but watches carefully for anyone to slip up.

The tiny, corrupt, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Industry, Defense, and Law & Order. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Garlic Knot City. Citizens pay a flat income tax of 5.8%.

The frighteningly efficient Bread Expertsian economy, worth 79.0 trillion Baguettes a year, is driven entirely by a combination of government and state-owned industry, with private enterprise illegal. However, for those in the know, there is a slick, highly efficient, broadly diversified black market in Arms Manufacturing, Retail, Gambling, and Information Technology. The private sector mostly consists of enterprising ten-year-olds selling lemonade on the sidewalk, but the government is looking at stamping this out. Average income is an impressive 145,792 Baguettes, but there is a large disparity between incomes, with the richest 10% of citizens earning 727,872 per year while the poor average 16,440, a ratio of 44.3 to 1.

One man's trash is another company's tax break, tourists ask to stay in the same pleasant accommodations where foreign prisoners are kept, resident physicians are said to have a silver scalpel in their hands, and the government hopes that Federation janitors overhear all of the good gossip. Crime is a serious problem, perhaps because of the country's complete lack of prisons. Bread Experts's national animal is the The Croissant, which teeters on the brink of extinction due to widespread deforestation.

Bread Experts is ranked 66,854^th in the world and 1^st in Nine Pigs in a Pen for Largest Insurance Industry, scoring 3,310.27 on the Risk Expulsion Effectiveness Rating.